


Bonus Round

by Lucifuge5



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Bottom!Frank, Established Relationship, M/M, Spanking, Top!Mikeyway, fluffy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 15:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/pseuds/Lucifuge5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Frank's been mouthy during the Stanley Cup final game, Mikeyway doles out punishment.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonus Round

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by (among other things): Mikeyway wearing his L.A. Kings baseball cap everywhere, Frank's tweets about the Stanley Cup finals and the Kings beating the Devils. Bandom canon is the grooviest!
> 
> Betaed by Andeincascade. All remaining mistakes are mine.

* * *

It's been almost an hour since they got home after the Stanley Cup finals. Pets have been fed, phones are on vibrate and Frank is standing naked in the living room.

There was no way Mikey was going to let Frank be mouthy throughout the game without any consequences. Frank couldn't help mocking Mikey, calling him a traitor for siding against the Devils and wondering out loud if Mikey's suddenly into the Kings just 'cause it's the hipster thing to do (hipster according to Ross--which is something that Frank would take with a huge grain of salt. Mikey's friendship with Ryan will forever be one of life's biggest mysteries.) Mikey kept shrugging off all of Frank's taunts. Frank should've known better, really. The more Frank teased, the higher Mikey's left eyebrow got.

Mikey's gaze became more intense, _determined_ , by the beginning of the third period. Had Frank paid any attention, he would've realized that Mikey had started to come up with a _plan._

*****

Facing a wall is, in many ways, the actual punishment. Left with nothing to do but stare at the lavender paint, Frank tries to keep himself from slouching. He straightens up, pushing his shoulders down and holding his right wrist with his left, when he hears Mikey closing a door. As his steps grow closer, Frank gets ready.

"Open your mouth and don't move," Mikey says in a calm tone.

Frank enjoys the pressure on the back of his neck (Mikey holding him steady) and does as he's told. Occasionally, he likes ramping up his brattier side. He can be a handful, that much is clear, but then, there are many ways of misbehaving. He closes his eyes when Mikey fits the gag in his mouth, laughing inside at how he's made to shut up.

It's a thing. _Their thing_.

Mikey turns him around, one hand immediately going to Frank's cock. "Come on," he says, sliding up and down the shaft until it starts to harden. The calluses on his fingers are nothing short of delicious torture.

Frank steals a few quick peeks at whatever Mikey's doing, trying to be as subtle as he possibly can. His eyes widen when he sees the dark blue hemp rope on Mikey's left shoulder. The length is too short for proper wrist or ankle bondage. Unless...

"Eyes up, Frank. Be good for me?" Mikey says, his eyes looking down. He nods once and, seemingly satisfied, picks up the rope.

It's not Frank's best moment (the rope feels silky and oh-so-good). Mikey tugs one end of the rope, tightening the lacing around Frank's cock and balls. There's a flash of pride when he manages to swallow a whimper.

He closes his eyes after he sees Mikey leaning toward him and is rewarded with a kiss on the cheek. "Here you go," Mikey says, placing a squeaky toy in the shape of a guitar in Frank's hands. "Let me know if you want to stop by using it, OK?"

Frank nods and follows Mikey to their plush couch.

Barefoot and dressed in dark jeans and one of his Camp Crystal Lake t-shirts, Mikey might look like a dude who's just hanging out. Frank knows better.

Mikey taps on his thighs. "Face down," he says and stretches his hands, cracking his knuckles while waiting for Frank to lay across his lap. Mikey doesn't use implements. He's got _hard_ hands. 

Despite his efforts at being completely obedient, Frank wiggles for a few seconds, enjoying the nice friction between his trussed up cock and the rough denim of Mikey's jeans. Mikey, who's fucking strong for such a thin dude, has him in a kind of neat hold within seconds, only giving him enough room to raise his ass. Frank bites down on the gag, remembering how tender his ass is going to feel in just a few moments.

Mikey hmms, sliding his hands all over Frank's naked bottom, kneading his glutes, spreading them apart. He's taking his time (Frank would be bitching right about now to "get fucking starting already!" if it wasn't for the stupid gag.)

The first slap catches Frank by surprise even though he's expecting it. There's the sound and then, right underneath that, the sting followed by the warmth. Like a blip on a radar.

He's a stubborn motherfucker, though. So he tries to shimmy off Mikey's lap some more. Pushing back at Mikey is one of Frank's favourite things in the whole world.

If there's something Mikey has in spades--other than patience--is rhythm. It doesn't take him long to build up a good beat, alternating between Frank's left and right ass cheeks, firing up the hurt on one just as the pain begins to calm down on the other; each spank creating an echo of an echo of an echo of a bite. By the third (or is it the fifth?) round, Frank starts to let go, relax into it.

He doesn't zone out exactly. It's more like everything goes really quiet in his head: the stress of working on the new album, the frustration of people trolling his twitter, the way L.A. drivers don't fucking know how to _merge_.

Gone.

Other than the loud whack of Mikey's hands on his skin, the only thing Frank can hear (can fucking focus on) is the rhythm of his deep breaths. Time stretches out and he stretches along with it, like a cat sleeping on a patch of afternoon sunlight.

"Frank?" Mikey asks, sliding his hands on Frank's skin. It's hot like a sunburn, only nicer. "Babe?"

Frank feels Mikey's hands behind his head and, for a moment, wonders what's happening. That is, until Mikey says ( _orders_ ) "Spit it!".

Frank doesn't question, not now when he's so mellow. He simply opens his mouth and pushes the ball gag out with his tongue. The gag's rubber aftertaste has got to go. Yawning--his jaw's a little sore--he lets go of the squeaky toy.

"Good boy," Mikey says, rewarding Frank with a scratch on the the back of his neck. Somehow, Frank keeps himself from purring.

"Can you turn around?" Mikey says, his other hand gliding from the center of his back down to the part where his ass meets his thighs.

Nodding once, Frank gets on his side. Not two seconds later, he feels Mikey's long fingers set his cock free from the ropes, cupping his balls, caressing the cockhead.

Frank whimpers a little. He's digging this moment too much to even think about coming. He feels Mikey bend over him.

"Let's save that for later," he whispers in Frank's ear.

Frank curls up and starts to doze off, holding onto Mikey and feeling safe and loved.

the end.


End file.
